


A Curious Man

by gouguruheddo



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Blood, Blow Jobs, Furlan & Isabel as children, London, M/M, Teacher!Erwin, baker!Levi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9717026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gouguruheddo/pseuds/gouguruheddo
Summary: a curious man with dark hair, the smell of violets and bread, warm skin pale and inviting... beating beating with blood that erwin can't ignore, desires it more than the ache he feels to have his own heart beat again.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emixor](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=emixor).



> for the eruri secret valentine exchange. my valentine was emixor on tumblr. i hope you enjoy, dear. <3
> 
>  

Erwin Smith was old enough to have lived through the reign of House Stuart, but looked young enough to serve in Queen Victoria’s court.

He grew up with wealth and high education, capable of holding conversations with the best minds in science and politics. He traveled the world, had an affinity for linguistics and diplomacy. People requested him at their functions, women wore their best dresses and dabbed the finest perfumes to their necks for him. He was cunning, quick tongued, but refined like an aged wine. Classically handsome in all the right ways: high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, full plump lips. He was the well tailored bachelor for any healthy noblewoman.

He never knew what a truly hollow stomach felt like. Not until he was dead, anyway.

An invitation to Sir Darius Zackly’s estate sat tucked into the breast pocket of his petticoat. The Zacklys had always been close to the crown. Erwin had watched the house grow richer over the course of decades. Watched as Darius’ father almost bankrupted the family into the slums, but the family was in luck that Darius was as witty as Erwin. The man single-handedly pulled the Zacklys out of certain social doom, and somehow came out all the richer. Erwin admired him deeply.

The Zacklys were the only family he kept loose, quiet ties with through the generations. Afterall, it was dangerous to intertwine with humans. They feared the things that they didn’t understand--things that preyed on them with faces that looked like their own. He changed his appearance enough after several decades, applied new names to personas he had to construct. Living as a hermit was just as dangerous as living in the same place for too long. To live through death meant having to live in the shadows of life. Making an appearance here, the place where Erwin Smith died, was like returning as an apparition to his grave. He treaded lightly, feeling like he was walking on cotton--unstable and wistful. He clutched loosely at his chest as he entered through the courtyard gate, pulling the hood of his green cloak down as he passed under the arches.

The gardens in front of the Zackly estate were well manicured and full of rare, exotic flora. The fall air was heavy with the smell of musty dirt, the wind bringing with it a chill that promised a cold winter. Many of the flowers had fallen out of bloom and were in the process of being weathered for the change of seasons.

It was here that he was reborn. Thirty-five years old and transformed into _this_. He was taken among the rose bushes, had no choice but to succumb. It had been a young man with eyes as green as emeralds, skin as fair as cream. He had never been with a man before, but his lips were tantalizing and they numbed his own as they touched. He had called Erwin handsome, said he was a man that shouldn’t be anchored in the mundanity of human perception. Erwin had never been so swept off his feet--fell to his knees, laid on his back on the trimmed grass of the gardens. His heart pounded in his ears--if he was caught here beneath another man like this, their naked bodies writhing against the ground, grass staining their backs with green wings--his reputation would be ruined.

But that’s what made the stranger that much more enticing.

He felt soft hands rake through his hair, lips on his neck, tongue lapping up the tendon. Hand gripping tight, right to the roots of his hair, and snapping his head back. He gasped as the teeth slid into his jugular, the other hand wrapping tight around his mouth as he screamed. His heels dug into the dirt, kicked up patches of turf as his hands grabbed onto rich, expensive fabrics. It only served to send the teeth deeper into him. His eyes rolled back, tears streaming down his pale cheeks, felt death sink in around him like a mild panic. A soft breath escaped between his lips. Felt Erwin leave from the shell of flesh. Breathed in Eli, Leander, Ned, Silas, Edgar.

The one that took him didn’t live in England anymore. He made sure of it when he came to, his veins running dry and crying in pain. He didn’t remember much, it felt like he had woken up in a body that didn’t belong to him. But he remembered what it felt like to taste his blood inside the demon’s body. Sickening like rancid citrus, overwhelming like a burlap sack brought taut around his face. There was blood on him--his clothes, his skin, his teeth. There were swatches of skin under his fingernails. He remembered nearly crushing the man’s head between his hands, roaring so loud with feral rage and superhuman strength that the leaves of the shrubs shuddered.

He didn’t ask for this. He was a monster, a demon, an enemy to humanity. Erwin adjusted the cravat around his neck. The skin healed remarkably fast now, but the bite marks never did.

There were laws--he wasn’t allowed to kill his kind. But he nearly did that night. Nearly did several times after that. They feared him because he hated them. He hated himself. However, he continued to live through death, playing it like a game of chess, hoping some day somebody could checkmate him. He saw the value in himself, the intelligence he stored and the good he could do for society if he could. But he didn’t value himself enough to play it safe.

The interior of the mansion was brightly lit with chandeliers and candelabras. The gold platings and white walls amplified their light, gave the common spaces a warmth that opened conversation with the help of old wine. Erwin took a glass from a passing waiter, saw the flash of his carotid artery, watched it pulse under paper skin. He tongued his canine impatiently and swallowed down a mouth full of wine. He stayed toward the outskirts and kept his eyes on faces he may know, ones he didn’t care to know, and ones he might be lucky enough to have looking vacantly back at him later.

Even in death, the circus never stopped. Live as a hermit with money and people talk. Live in one place for too long and people’s grandchildren began to suspect. Money was survival. Banquets, a necessity. He didn’t feel the alcohol, had to stop at the powder room to apply blush to his cheeks throughout the evening, his words coming out in monotonous drawls as the bells from the nearby church chimed for the eleventh time.

His wealth was amassed through education. He tutored for the wealthy, many of his patrons were in the room that night. Taught their children that would go on to become doctors, lawyers, and inventors. He knew when to share his well of knowledge, who to talk to about taboo topics. He was admired in the communities he chose to blend into. People wanted him around, to hear his baritone voice amuse and challenge their perspective. And Erwin enjoyed it to a point, remembered what it was like to have awe and wonder in a world he thought would outlive him. Now, he just wished to dull the ache in his limbs, fill the hollow in his chest. He hunted for the pulse in his wrists again.

“How are you doing, Mr. Smith?”

Erwin turned his head. He went to bring his lips to his glass again, but it appeared that he had drank the rest of his fourth glass. “I’m fine, Commander Dok.” He placed the glass on a nearby table before folding his gloved hands behind his back. “How are you? How are the children?”

Nile Dok was a long-faced, middle-aged man. His skin was olive and leathery from too many tours in the sands of Jordan. “Same old, I’m afraid. I’ll be off in the orient soon enough. The girls will be three years older by the time I get back.”

“They grow so fast, don’t they?”

“I thought you didn’t have any children, Edgar.” Nile raised an eyebrow over his wine glass. Despite his raggedness, he was well groomed and plucked, his eyebrows sharp, his goatee short and thin. It kept the deep set wrinkles around his mouth from giving away his age.

“I have many children, sir. I’ve seen countless grow to be well and accomplished adults.”

Nile snorted. “Right, of course. Well, that’s too bad. Something tells me you’d be a good father.”

“Perhaps.” Erwin said distantly. When he was alive, he didn’t have a family. His mother died before he knew what her real name was, and his father followed a short few years after that. Settling down with a wife, worrying about having children--it all seemed like such a distant and unrealistic dream. Life had always been about survival, and Erwin supposed it was only fitting that it was the same in death.

But it did sting a little. He had an affinity for children. Nothing was more admirable than the world through the eyes of a child. When he explained that at the poles of the earth were floating pieces of ice bigger than their houses, or that the deserts burned like fire during the day but were able to became so dangerously cold at night… Their eyes would grow wide with wonderment, their growing brains filling with too many questions to articulate properly. He wished he had it--had something to protect and teach and love.

“Don’t let life pass you by, Edgar. There’s too many pretty women to let it.” He slapped a hand on the back of Erwin’s shoulder. “I’ll catch you when I come back. We’ll find a place away from here and grab a pint, eh?”

Erwin nodded. “I would like that.” Nile flashed a smile before walking off to some other guests.

The night dragged on. Erwin had seen Darius floating in and out of circles of people, but he never reached Erwin. That was fine by him. It was dangerous enough to be here. He looked close enough to his Leander persona that Darius’ grandfather was tutored by as a child. Instead, he tarried, stalking a pretty noblewoman, hair curled and pulled up off her neck. She had a tiny waist and a hooped dress that was as wide as she was tall. They caught eyes from across the room, and she smiled shyly. He could hear her heartbeat flutter, could smell the mercury in her make-up, could feel her heat radiating like a beacon from a lighthouse. Her throat flashed as she swallowed, and Erwin couldn’t help but return the gesture.

She had suddenly become the only thing in the room. She started to make her way toward him, her footsteps resounding around him. His hands tightened into fists, and a heavy breath streamed out of his nostrils. He rarely went after people of stature. They tasted better, like the expensive spirits and imported delicacies they consumed. The women, when nearly drained, tasted of their lovers, and it was the closest thing Erwin could find to sexual pleasure anymore. He was a monster, not a necrophiliac.

However, before she reached him, another man called her attention away. His lips parted, wanting to call her over, but he had no name for her. With a breath out through clenched teeth, he shook lightly. All of his senses had been heightened--he felt overstimulated in the large room, felt anxious and fidgety without her eyes on him. He was ready to hunt, but his target had been lost. His veins burned like coals, and the longer he stayed here, the more his coals were stoked.

He left the party as quietly as he came in, waved away the offer of a carriage back into the city, and drew the hood of his cloak over his head. His eyes nearly glowed in the moonlight, bright and honed for hunting.

He was going feeding.

\---

The slums were where Erwin fed most. Each alleyway was an extraneous vein in the body of the city. They were clogged and dirty, numb from their own filth. He fed on the sick, the dying, the immoral, the criminals. He offered them a mercy he could not have, let them slip into an endless, dawnless night. And as much as he could allow himself, he loved it. They tasted more like life than anything. Dirty, gritty, heartbroken. They touched every one of his senses, allowed him to live again through them.

He never changed his appearance. Walking through the streets at midnight garnered in silks made him a target for the bravest of desperate idiots. He led them down alleyways, pushed them against sweating brick walls, and took them quickly. It wasn’t a ritual he enjoyed being a part of. The less attention he put toward it the better. With expert care, he would sit them down and clean them up--to give both him and his victim a sense of dignity for when their lifeless bodies were discovered.

Tonight was no different. All he needed to do was to rid himself of the aching discomfort in his veins. He allowed himself to get cornered by the man that had been tailing him for the past quarter hour.

“Don’ move.” Erwin’s boots scuffed the cobblestone. The alleyway he had ended up in smelled like piss and vomit, and he was certain it would soon smell like blood. “If ya want to live, a’ course.”

A small man, a whole head shorter than Erwin, melted off of the shadows of the alley, the moonlight slicing his face in two--cold and blue, black and inky. There was a knife held loosely in his right hand, his other tucked halfway into his pocket. His shoulders slumped as if he were bored, had it scripted out like a play, waiting impatiently for his next line to pass the queue.

“I would prefer that.” Erwin said.

The man took a few steps forward. The footfalls were light--as if his boots didn’t even hit the ground at all. It was clear he was practiced, that he was a man that lived as a shadow, not within them. Like a black cat, he prowled toward Erwin, his size not at all a concern etched upon his intentions. He meant to kill if need be: quickly and precisely and without hesitation.

The quick ones always were the most fun.

“Give me all ya got in yer coin purse, ya canker. And don’ try any shit, or I _will_ gut ya.”

Yes, Erwin preferred the taste of pond scum and gutter water. Like cream and lemon, it curdled and disatisfied him. The corruption filled his body with their wretchedness so others wouldn’t have to. He helped the men and women of the city by filling himself with these rats. The ones that did nothing but prey on those who suffered most. This one would taste awfully delicious, he was sure.

He was upon him in a flash. With a quick turn and retreating step, Erwin struck the small man on the ear. The man took the blow and tilted backward on his heels, teetering. Impartially, Erwin watched. The mugger was falling, falling, and then he twisted, catlike, tumbling backwards and landing on his feet. Erwin’s eyebrow raised, and the man sprung forward again, his knife ready.

Erwin was fast for his size. He snatched the man’s wrist from the air. He could feel the mugger’s pulse flutter, like a trapped bird. Erwin could mangle the wrist, could have crumpled it like paper. He smelled like sweat, like rage. Erwin drew a deep breath through his nostrils, and his eyes went blurry with hunger. He wanted to suck this man dry, feel his tiny wrist go limp within his fist. His scent... Blood, sweat, saliva. His nose flared.

Yeast?

But where was the fear?

It was enough of a distraction. The man dropped the knife into his free hand, backhanded it, and swiped straight up across Erwin’s cheek. Erwin stumbled back in shock, bringing his hand to his face, releasing his prey. It hurt, and nothing ever hurt anymore. It sizzled deep in the cut, popped against his bone like carbonation caught in a bottle. And he was _surprised_. He had never been bested. Not in the two centuries he had walked this earth.

The attack had an edge on it, too. The force behind the trajectory, the desperation. The sleeve of the man’s shirt smelled like flour, burnt bread. But there was something more. A family, maybe?

The man went to lunge again, but he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes blowing wide. The mugger’s eyes--they were murky and dull like storm clouds. They shown under the moonlight, and there Erwin saw it, finally. Eyes gilded with terror. A fear that made Erwin feel something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Holy shit.” The man gasped. He peddled his feet back. He reeled into the alleyway wall, knocking the wind out of himself.

Erwin shook himself from his reverie. He closed in, towering over this man, his shadow casting long and cold over his prey. “What’s wrong, sir? Weren’t you going to rob me?” He tossed his coin purse at the man’s feet. “Do you wish to kill me still?”

“F-fuck.” The man’s eyes stayed trained on Erwin, on his cheek--his cheek that didn’t bleed. He slid down the wall to swipe up the purse, the knife in his hand shaking. He sidled along the wall, and made a run for it, coins jingling as his arms swung. His boots fell heavy. He was not a shadow in the face of the monster.

Erwin didn’t follow.

He was still hungry. So hungry that he felt like he would burn up in his pain. He drew a hand down his face, breathed in, smelled the man on it. God, he wanted to taste his blood, but he knew it would be a waste. With that kind of skill and speed, he deserved a death more noble. More natural--even if it meant having another man’s knife lodged between his ribcage. He deserved more than a demon’s death.

He’d go hungry again that night thinking of dark hair and pale skin. He fingered the slit in his cheek, hissed at the silver that burned it open, and parted the skin to keep it from healing.

\---

Erwin tried to forget about the mugger. It had been days, but he could still feel the faint beating of the tiny bird against his thumb. The gray of his eyes, vacantly full of fear, not for himself, but for something greater. So strong, so quick, and he didn’t do it for himself. People like him just didn’t exist.

It wasn’t until he visited the third bakery in the neighborhood that he realized what he was doing. His nose had strung him along in the rainy late afternoon. He worked on trying to create an excuse, attributing his craving for pastries to the rare aches of human connectivity. But that wasn’t what it was at all, and it was too late to stop himself from doing it. He was hunting without the intent of killing, and that was a new and compelling behavior that intrigued him. Yes, it was about science now.

He looked inside the window to the small shop. What is it that people said? Third time’s the charm.

There was a small wooden plaque on the window sill that read ‘closed’, but the man was still working around the front of the store tidying up. The walls were lined with baskets, small tags of paper hanging from the wicker with prices scrawled on them. His hair was pulled back with a white handkerchief, and his cheeks were flush with pink. Erwin watched him through the foggy glass, waited for several minutes before pulling himself away filled with disappointment.

He returned the next day, earlier this time, but not so early that the sun was uncomfortable for him. The sign read ‘open’ and he peeked through the same foggy window. Nobody but the man was inside, broom in hand and pushing away dirt that Erwin wasn’t even sure was there. He frowned, moved to the opposite side of the narrow road and waited under an awning. The nearby church bells chimed when the man came to the window and turned the sign to ‘closed’. He watched the sign as if he were hoping the letters would rearrange themselves and spell something different, but it didn’t happen. He kicked himself off the wall and left down the street.

The third time he promised himself it would be the last. He waited outside, noting the eyes of passerbys on him. He was richly dressed as usual, and he saw the hunger in the less savory one’s eyes as they passed. If this didn’t work, he thought, he would tail the next man that gave him a sideways glance and quench his bloodlust under the waning afternoon sun. Luckily, a middle aged woman with dirty hair and missing teeth managed to come by, her stick like arms struggling to open the heavy wooden door, and entered the store. With a few minutes gap, Erwin slipped in behind her.

The store was smaller than it looked from the outside--a feat Erwin didn’t think was possible. His height came at a disadvantage, his head nearly grazing the ceiling by a few inches. The baskets on the walls were mostly empty, and some of the bread appeared to be stale. It looked pathetic, but not without heart. It was tough being poor in a big city. He could almost guarantee that the mugger lived in the back room alongside the ovens.

“Hello, sir.” The dry voice said. It sounded familiar, so Erwin turned his head to greet it. The grey eyes that he saw behind his eyelids, the ones he couldn’t stop thinking of, were looking at him again. And it was as if they were the only two in the whole room, the fear seeping through his counterpart so thickly that the air felt heavy. He looked around panicked, his steps falling backward as he gripped onto the sales counter.

Erwin remained collected. He had no intention of hurting this man, not now. Not ever. He just wanted to observe--to learn. “I’m looking for some dessert to bring home to my wife. Can you kindly suggest your best recommendation? She is not afraid of sweets.”

The man’s mouth moved absently. The old woman was completely oblivious, two loaves of bread sticking out of the basket she had brought with her. With wide eyes, he blinked several times before finally croaking, “Of course, sir.” He walked over to the wall and displayed the tarts. They were sparsely decorated with fruits, thin and small in diameter. It was apparent that ingredients were an expense he could barely afford. “Mayhaps your lady would like one of these.”

Erwin raised an eyebrow with a slight smirk. He didn’t have an accent anymore. Such a curious man. “I see. I’ll take them all, then.”  
  
The man looked at him oddly, nodded slowly before grabbing the basket of treats to the counter to pack into a small bag.

“Do you have a wife, mister…?” Erwin started.

“That will be three pence.”

Erwin patted his person down, his eyes snapping up with slight smile on his face. “Oh my, it seems that I have misplaced my wallet.”

The man stared back at him, hardened. The fear was replaced with disdain, hatred, savagery.

“Ah,” Erwin said, slipping his finger into his vest pocket. “Here we go.” He placed five pence on the counter and took the bag from the man. He opened it, took a tart out, and turned to give it to the woman. “M’lady.” His eyes stayed on the baker’s, a kindred smile on his face. He offered a headbow and left the shop, slowing as he passed the front of the shop to tilt his head into the window. The baker was looking back at him, blinked, but Erwin was gone before his eyes opened again.

Stubbornly, Erwin decided he would go back. The next day he happened upon a rush in the store. He waited patiently for his turn, greeted the other patrons warmly as they waited to be helped. The baker caught his eyes again, allowed Erwin to skip the line to purchase his loaf of bread.  
  
“How many wives do you have?” The baker said.

“Just the one.” Erwin said, a hint of amusement on his voice.

“She must be a cow.”

“I help her finish.”

The baker looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “I doubt that.”

Erwin smiled back with a nod, and took his purchases. As before, the baker’s eyes followed him all the way through the glass of the window, and for all he knew, probably all the way down the street.

The routine continued for a few weeks. He learned his name through the voice of another. Levi--a name he would have never guessed. Discovered through enough time, with lonely starts and ends to his days, that he was unmarried. It was a surprise the day he found out that Levi had two little ones. They appeared occasionally, bringing baskets of product to and fro. One was a boy of about ten years with pale blue eyes and a disposition that erred on caution--especially when it came to the little girl. The little girl, round face, pink cheeked, and hair as red as fire. It was rare not to see a smile pinching the dimples to her cheeks. And those children seemed to be the only time a smile threatened to cross Levi’s face. Otherwise, he was on guard around Erwin, his fingers always ready and willing to wrap around the closest bread knife. It took weeks for his posture to relax, recognizing that with other bodies in the shop, Erwin could never make a move against him.

“Here again,” Levi lamented. He was at work restocking the baskets along the walls--tea cookies and brown betty.

“Yes. I can't seem to keep away.” Erwin said simply.

Levi grunted, and Erwin could hear the eye roll. “I wish you would.” But it didn't sound convincing, or maybe Erwin wished it didn't.

“Is that so.” Erwin did his best to sound wounded. He picked up a cookie from a basket, his arm nearly bumping against Levi’s, and examined it playfully. “But then who's going to eat this little guy?”

Levi snatched the cookie from his hand. “Not like you are. Or your wives.”

“ _Wife_ ,” Erwin corrected.

“Sure, mister..”

“Please, call me Edgar.”

Levi's eyebrow raised, before he said, carefully, “ _Edgar_ … for the amount of bread you buy from me, I'm surprised how thin you are.”

“You've been looking?”

Levi's mouth went agape. A hint of a smile cornered his lips before shoving the cookie back into Erwin's hand. “Shut up.”

“No really, I'm flattered.”

“I said: _shut up_.” But there wasn't the edge to it that promised violence. It made Erwin smile and his limbs feel loose. He took a bite of the cookie before dispensing several pence on the counter.

“See you tomorrow, my good baker.”

He heard Levi retort as the front door closed behind him, the citrus tones of the cookie bringing back memories of life, cleansing away all the dirty blood he had accumulated on his taste buds throughout the years.

The weeks turned to months. The winter settled in, brought drifts of snow that stuck to rooftops that melted away in the mid afternoon sun. Levi always had a surplus of sticky rolls and rye bread on the shelves. It was during these weeks of buying dozens of buns that Erwin learned that Levi never drank alcohol, smoked a cigar once a year if he could afford it, and had impeccable cleaning habits. He learned that every year he made special treats for Isabel’s birthday, and passed out the excess to other girls her age as presents.

“That's sweet of you.” Erwin commented, smiling as he watched a small girl licking icing from her fingers. Her mother chastised her for her manners, and she pouted as she held the treat out far in front of her before taking another delicate bite.

Levi leaned against the front counter, arms folded over each other, his face relaxed and borderline content. He had never been so comfortable around Erwin, his heartbeat matching his body language. “They deserve it.”

Erwin hummed.

“It’s hard growing up with nothing. I bet you don’t understand that.” Erwin stayed quiet. “When you really need to consider eating dirty old leather to keep from starving… Drinking piss from a fucking chamber pot…”

“Nobody deserves that.”

“Exactly.” And a wall came crashing down. Levi’s eyebrows loosened, his eyes growing bigger as they relaxed, the lines along his mouth smoothing out. Levi smiled. “Seeing them have anything…”

Erwin was taken aback. He didn’t know what to do with this gift that Levi had just presented him. “Isabel and Furlan, are they…?”

Levi looked up at him. “I found Furlan a few streets down with a butter knife stuck in the belly of a rat. He was six.”

“And Isabel?”

Levi’s lips parted to show his teeth between his lips. “She’s a special one, that’s for sure. Found her rummaging through my trash.” There was a pride in his eyes as he talked. “ _Inside_ the shop. At midnight.”

Erwin laughed. “I would have never taken little Isabel for a lockpick.”

As if there wasn’t enough that Levi had given him, he gave Erwin a breathy laugh as well. “Me either. She’s crafty, that’s for sure.”

“You’re a good man.”

With that, Levi averted his gaze, cast his eyes on the window opposite and straightened his back. “You don’t know anything about me, Mr. Smith.”

The tone had changed, and the moment was gone. The woman and her daughter paid for their items, and Levi packed Erwin’s basket with his usual assortment of breads. His face was chiseled and stoic again, his demeanor stand-offish and negative. Erwin thanked the baker, bowed his head out of politeness, but was returned with a grunt that rejected his patronage.

It was as if the smile had been a figment of his imagination, the laugh an audio illusion.

Another act of a curious man.

\---

Levi smelled like lilacs underneath the smell of oven heat, and it was so baked into him that Erwin could recognize it even in a crowd of people.

And it happened. He smelled him out in early evening one time. They matched eyes out by the market, and he saw the nuanced tightness of Levi’s jaw as their eyes met briefly. All the other people on the street seemed to draw to a stop, the volume of their chatter reducing to a hum. The beat of Levi’s heart railed in Erwin’s ears, could taste the fear in the air like sulfur and gunpowder. But he still smelled like flowers and bread, and his throat flicked with a dry swallow as he tore his head away. He felt much like a child scolded and left without a toy to play. He walked far enough away so he didn’t have to hear the enticing thump out here in the open. His playground. His hunting grounds.

There was something about their worlds crossing like that again that made him uneasy. Sure, he had invaded Levi’s space, made himself a part of them man’s routine as much as Erwin made Levi apart of his. But there was a safety of that for the both of them. Shrouded in late afternoon daylight, confined inside walls with strangers, they were both safe from each other. They were even able to learn about each other. Specimen research with proper safety precautions.

It was painful seeing Levi out here. Smelling him. Tasting him in the air. His body burned, felt his throat grow dry like a desert. He needed to feed again… So he wouldn’t feed on the man he desired the most.

The moon hung swollen and bright in the sky that night. The stars pulsed like heartbeats in the darkness, and the cold air seemed to sharpen the edges of his sight. It had been a month since his last feeding. Erwin remembered the flash of Levi’s eyes on him from earlier in the day. Saw the betrayal rimming his eyes from their chance meeting. Felt them grinding him into the cobblestone as if he were a cockroach under his shoe. With all that suspicion, he still had a fire in him that wanted to tear Erwin apart.

Erwin’s palm met the wall of a building. He breathed out, pushing Levi out of his mind as he tried to focus on his task. This part of town was warmer from the sewers kicking up steam, but it made it smell like shit too. Fitting, he thought, as he swayed through alleyways like a drunk man, and supposed that perhaps he was. He had gotten too close to the ethanol that drenched the baker’s aura that it made him hunger more than he thought possible.

The moon held high above him until he finally found a man, so folded in on himself that it looked like his spine had been grafted that way. He smelled unwashed, pungent like moldy beef, and dank like a wet sponge. His cough echoed through the alleyway, and Erwin could smell the blood that escaped through his lungs, out his throat, and into the dirty palm of his hand.

He was dying, and Erwin would give him mercy.

He took the man gently. He cradled his head in his palm, told him that it would hurt but it would feel better than living another night out here under the cold stars. His teeth sunk into soft flesh, felt the warm blood flow into his mouth, sucked the life out through plasma so red it seemed to glow in the shadows. The man was too weak to fight back, nothing but garbled coughs moaning between his lips. His ripe smell was replaced with the coppery scent of his insides, and Erwin lapped and sucked until his fingers dug so hard into the dying man’s shoulders that he felt the bones snap under them.

And as he felt the man slump heavily into the wall, the smell bloomed into violets and sprigs of wheat. Erwin’s eyes snapped wide as he reeled back from his prey, tumbling out of balance so that he almost fell back onto his behind. He turned to see Levi at the intersection of the alley, and all of his senses became so painfully attuned to his surroundings that he forgot to swallow the blood that had pooled in his mouth. A thin rivulet streamed down his lips and across his chin, heard it drop to the cobblestone in time with Levi’s heartbeat.

Levi’s features were ragged, his fist clenching around that accursed silver knife, those stormy eyes swirling in anticipation. His muscles flexed under his thin button-up shirt, his breath steaming in the cold air.

Levi hadn’t been a prowler since the night they first met. Erwin kept him well paid, and most times he watched the lantern flame snuff out behind the window curtains of Levi’s room a few minutes before midnight.

“What are you doing here?” Erwin asked coolly. He stood up, the alley man’s body crumpling to the side, his arm bent up ugly and contorted, what was left of his blood pooling in the hollow of the inside of his elbow.

Levi watched him, his grip tightening around the hilt of his knife.

“Levi,” he said the name, realized it was the first time he had ever said it outloud, and it almost stung coming off his tongue. A name too pure for a demon like him to speak.

Levi’s eyes went wide, a rush of air hissing through his teeth as he took a step back.

“Levi.” Erwin said again, and it burned to say, but desired to hear it more from his own voice. Wanted the stars to realign and spell it for him so he could see it long after Levi’s mortality took him away from him. “Answer me.”

“You’ve been stalking me.” Levi said, and if Erwin hadn’t been on edge, he might not have heard him say it at all. “So I figured I’d return the favor.”

Erwin didn’t answer. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and harshly scrubbed the blood from his face. His eyes met the ground, and he struggled to find the words for the first time in almost two hundred years. Finally, he said, “Are you talking about today? I assure you, Levi, it was an accident seeing you.”

“Don’t ever come back to my shop, you hear?”

He didn’t know that words could hurt--not anymore. But he found himself caring what Levi had to say, especially when it related to him. He shook his head. He wanted to tell him no, and he intended to. Nothing was going to keep him from Levi, not even those cat-like reflexes armed with silver tipped knives. “I wouldn’t hurt them. I wouldn’t hurt you.” He said softly. He stood stiff, posture tall and proper like the nobleman he was. “I promise; I would never.”

“What does a promise mean to a monster like you?”

Erwin flinched as if he had been smacked. He was left speechless again.

“I swear I will kill you if I see you again.” Even in the shadows, Erwin could tell those eyes were pressing into him, compressing him against the dark alley wall. He meant every word of it, and intended to follow through with surgical precision.

Levi didn’t wait for an answer. He slunk off from the entrance of the alleyway, footsteps so quiet they melted into the ambient sounds of the night streets.

Even though Erwin had just fed, the thick taste of sickness and metal still coating his throat and stomach, his arteries felt like they were coursing with acid. He let his hunger and weakness slump him to the ground, and his heart didn’t feel dead… It felt non-existent.

\---

The snow piled on the sides of the streets nearly came up to Erwin’s shins before he decided to test his luck again. If Levi wanted to kill him and succeeded, he figured he would only be doing him a favor. He’d been preoccupied with enough sick bodies the past week to fail to see the value in continuing at all.

Erwin didn’t bother checking to see if anybody was in the shop before he pushed the door open. The tiny bell around the knob jingled and heralded his entrance. The shop was warm, the smell of yeast heavy but inviting. He let his shoulders relax, allowed his lips to press into a thin smile. He hadn’t realized that the week without the bakery had actually been strikingly lonely. The routine had been ingrained, and losing it made him feel unbalanced. He hadn’t necessarily been human in a very long time, but this made things feel... Normal.

Isabel came trotting around the front counter. Erwin could have sworn that she had grown taller since he last saw her. When she recognized him, her face lit up, and she came barreling into his knees. Tiny arms wrapped around his legs, and he couldn’t help but let a chuckle rumble through his chest.

“Little flower. How are you this afternoon?” He pat the top of her head. Her hair was parted into two short french braid pigtails, and the color matched the red of her plain dress.

“Ahhh,” she stepped back and folded her hands over her front. Her toe dug into the floor before she formulated her answer. “I’m fine, Mr. Smith. How are you?”

Erwin knelt down. “I’m doing well, thank you very much for asking.” Isabel tried to meet his eyes, but she was too shy to let them rest for too long. “I have something for you, darling.” He pulled a small doll from his cloaks, and pressed it into her open hands. Her eyes lit up as she turned the plush bird in her hands. It was hand stitched from expensive textiles, the eyes beaded with soft gold pieces.

She gasped out a reply, “For me?” Erwin smiled and nodded. “This is… This is just wonderful, Mr. Smith! Thank you so much!” She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, and Erwin couldn’t help but laugh again. He felt his dead heart constrict as it desperately tried to beat for this little girl.

“Isabel!”

The girl’s arms slipped away from Erwin as she spun to face Levi. He was standing at the entrance to the back of the shop, his hands on his hips like an angry housewife. She slunk toward him, her fingers clutching tightly to the plush bird.

“Upstairs. _Now_.”

She nodded, her head down as she walked forward. She dared to look back at Erwin briefly, and his heart broke with hers as she passed beside Levi. The sound of her tiny footsteps up the stairs creaked throughout the entire building until the downstairs was nothing but the two men and an audience of bread.

“What did I fuckin’ say?” Levi said. His knife was tight in his hand, and he was advancing toward Erwin. “Get the fuck out of my store, _monster_.”

Erwin stepped back, his hands up in submission. “I did not come to hurt you.”

“Do you think I give a shit?” His voice was a rasp, breathy and crackled at the edges like burning parchment. The space between them was closing, and Levi’s arm was stretched out, ready to slash after one more pace.

“I know you don’t, but…” The attack came, but Erwin caught both of Levi’s arms as he pushed them both into the door. The bell jingled energetically, the wood moaning as Levi continued to throw his weight into the taller man. He snarled, his grip on the hilt of his knife bringing his knuckles to a ghostly white. “Levi!”

“I said I’d kill you.” Levi’s eyes were dark, red rimmed and watery, his face steeped in wrinkled shadows. The vein in his neck throbbed, and it caused Erwin to loosen his grip for just enough time to allow Levi to slip free and press his blade against the soft skin of his jaw.

Erwin groaned. The touch of the pure metal against his skin peeled it into layers like an onion. His head hit the back of the door as he tried to get away from the blade, his grip on Levi’s wrists becoming tighter. The birds within his veins were rattling against his being, called so enticingly to Erwin as if he were the house cat playing with his food.

He was stuck under Levi again. He had cast a spell--imposed his mortal power and used it to threaten Erwin’s existence. The smell of sweat, violets, yeast, mucus…

“Levi.” Erwin croaked. The safe way out wasn’t worth it right now. He shoved the small man off of him. Before he could regain his balance, Erwin was on him, using his mass to counteract the nimbleness of his counterpart. He pushed him against the counter, pinned their hips together. Levi kicked and growled, his wrist twisting in Erwin’s grip against the table.

He could smell it all over him now. How he didn’t notice it the second he walked into the store was beyond him. The rasp in his throat, the salty smell of mucus, the wateriness of his eyes. He had seen it on the streets for months now. And even without his help, the sick ones weren’t surviving. He dipped his head to Levi’s neck and sniffed softly, this man’s hands pressed hard into the counter below them.

“What are you…” Surprising to Erwin, the motion seemed to disarm Levi. His muscles relaxed just enough that his legs kicked off the floor and his back fell flush against the counter top. Erwin towered over him, brought his weight down onto the smaller man. “You’re a fuckin’ nancy, too?” Levi spat.

“No. You’re sick.”

“ _You’re_ sick.”

Erwin’s grip on Levi tightened, air sucking between his teeth as his lips grazed the warmth of his skin. “You have it. And you’re going to die.”

“The hell?”

His grip loosened, and Levi didn’t fight back. The knife fell to the counter, and all he could do was blink back up at his assailant. Their bodies were still achingly close, and Erwin didn’t stop himself from releasing Levi to move raven hair from out of his reddened eyes. “I have seen it spreading. I have tasted it.” Levi’s body tensed under him, and he stopped the baker from grabbing the knife again. “It will take you, and it will take the kids too.”

Levi’s eyes went wide. That same fear that had enticed Erwin all those months ago. The fear not for self preservation, but for the lives of his family. “Is that why you came here?”

Erwin leaned up, his hands still on Levi, selfishly enjoying the heat on him for a little longer. “No. But it is now.”

“What can _you_ do?” Levi’s chest heaved like a swelling tide, and it came boiling over in heavy, long coughs.

Stepping back, releasing Levi from his burden, Erwin folded his arms across his chest, tried to keep the ghost of Levi there for as long as he could. “Nothing that I won’t regret.”

“I don’t give a shit how you feel.” Levi muttered, lifting his body up from the counter by his elbows. “Those kids…”

“I know.” Erwin said. He moved for the door to leave. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t offer this to Levi. He had worked too hard to keep that bird alive, to keep it away from his fangs. But he couldn’t see how he could save them all without capturing it between his teeth and savagely tearing it apart.

Levi dashed for him, grabbed his arm so hard he stumbled back into the center of the shop. “You come here every day. You pry into my life like I’m some fuckin’ dictionary for you to finger through. I would like nothing better to never see your face again. I thought you finally were gonna leave me be, and yet you’re here.” His teeth were gritting so hard they screeched against each other. “ _Tell me_.”

Erwin looked down at the small man. The hard life that had shaped him, the children he chose to raise with barely enough to keep himself afloat. The man that mugged to keep them fed, probably had been mugging his whole life. He deserved better than a demon’s death. He deserved better. He deserved…

“Edgar!” Levi barked, the sickness making Erwin’s chosen name sound even more nauseating to his ears.

“Death. Sleepless or eternal, but nothing else.”

“Fuckin’ say it straight, you pompous ass!”

He placed his hands on either sides of Levi’s face. Felt the fever against his palms, the sweat along his hairline. It had come on so quickly. It had only been a week… “I can kill you, or I can turn you into something like me.”

The silence in the room was deafening. So often Levi had tuned Erwin’s senses so tightly that it overwhelmed him. Levi looked at him, his eyes intense and questioning. They searched his, darting around his face, studying him as if it was the first time he actually _looked_ at Erwin.  His voice was soft, damaged and a little melancholy. “A monster.”

Erwin nodded once, scarred again by his words, like the slice still pared into his cheek. “Yes.”

Drawing his face back, Levi let his gaze fall to the floor. “I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t.”

“Yes, I will.”

“ _They_ won’t.”

“Get out.” Levi said.

Erwin ran a hand through his hair, tilting his head in slight frustration. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way. He wanted to save him in any way he could--save the family Levi had worked so hard to save himself. He was frustrated with his own desires and motives. Frustrated with Levi’s inability to trust him and push him away. There were only two solutions, and they had to be administered soon. “Three days.”

“Get _out_.”

“Three days,” Erwin said, reaching his hand for the door. “You have a choice. I won’t let you get sick enough to hurt Furlan and Isabel.”

After Erwin had shuffled himself out of the shop, Levi slammed the door behind him so hard that the bell broke and chattered across the floor.

\---

Erwin didn’t enter the shop the next day, but he stood outside leaning against the wall that faced the shop. His cloak was pulled over his head, his boots dirty with brown slush, his arms folded across his chest as if he felt the cold at all. He caught eyes with Levi as he peered out the window, and the man returned a scowl so heated that it could melt iron. But Erwin didn’t budge, stayed throughout the early morning sun, its light and heat making his skin burn a light pink, but he didn’t care. He had to be here if Levi made his decision.

Or rather, he _hoped_ he’d make a decision.

Erwin wasn’t sure what he wanted him to agree to. He had never made somebody like himself before. He knew the basics of how to do it, because it had happened to him, had heard musing from others like him, but feared he couldn’t control himself in the end. The taste of Levi was something he only dreamed of, and wasn’t sure if he would be able to wake himself in time to see Levi moving into the next day.

He moved to the rooftop at night. His knees brought to his chest, he watched over Levi’s window as if he was protecting the man from somebody other but himself. Levi saw him there too, eyes squinting in the darkness, the new moon making it difficult to see. But Erwin was an abnormal shadow along the architecture, and Levi’s eyes blew open when he recognized him. Drew the curtains closed with such quickness, that Erwin jerked his head along with it.

The next day he waited in the same spot. Matched eyes with Levi again through glass, but not for long. Levi came barging out of the shop door, his arms tight at his side as came up to Erwin, his cool eyes glaring signals of warning.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” His voice was tight, maybe from control, mostly from not being able to take in enough air.

“I told you three days. I am waiting to see if you make your decision sooner.”

“I won’t.”

Erwin looked at him, looked through him, and his voice was nothing but shattered as he spoke. “I know.”

Levi shifted his weight, tried to get Erwin’s eyes to focus on him as they talked. “What did you expect? Putting my death into hours like that?”

“It is better than what most people are granted.”

Levi tutted. He brought a hand to his face and let his fingers rub hard into his reddened eyes. Erwin wondered how much sleep he had gotten last night. “Just don’t fuckin’ watch over me tonight.” He turned to go back to the shop.

“I will be.”

“I know.” He said with a dejected headshake.

And he did. Erwin sat, cloaked and shrouded on the rooftop, for the second night in a row. Levi stood at the window near midnight, didn’t move for almost an hour. They were watching each other, contemplating a life with or without the other. Levi’s head tilted down toward the window sill, his finger dragging along the surface checking for dirt. A soft smirk touched his lips, and he retreated back toward bed, curtains still drawn. Inviting.

Erwin sat on the roof until the dawn broke over the town. He slunk away before anybody else could discover him.

That morning, Levi didn’t open the bakery. Erwin waited patiently against the same wall, until nearly two hours past opening. He hesitantly crossed the street, nearly knocking into a well tailored man in the process, and rapped his knuckle against the door.

No answer.

Again.

He went to reach for the door, saw the closed sign, and sighed agitatedly. He knocked again, louder this time. “Levi?” He said, sternly. “Open up, please.”

Several minutes passed until the sound of a key slipping into the lock and turning was heard. The door creaked open, revealing the short man. He looked tired. Beaten. Sick enough to be looking hell right in the face. And in truth, he was. “What do you want? I still have today to live, don’t I?”

Erwin’s shoulders relaxed, feeling relief when he didn’t even know he was feeling anxious. “Yes, of course.”

“Then let me enjoy my last day with the brats alone.” Levi said. It was a plea…

Erwin nodded. No, it was a request. A brave submission of his fate. A request that he entrusted to Erwin to complete. One he would gladly respect, as he had nothing else but respect for him. “I’ll see you in morning, my good merchant.”

With a twitch of his neck, Levi pursed his lips and shrugged. “Yes.” He closed the door, the lock jiggling again. Erwin stood at the door, wishing he could go in and watch these final moments. Be a part of Levi’s life where it mattered the most. All of the things that were important to what made Levi the man he was were happening in these last 72 hours. And all he’d be able to do is see the last few minutes of it. Taste it. Feel it slip away between his fingers like the sands of time. It was going to be so easy to take it all away, but so hard to keep in a memory.

Erwin shuddered. Backed away from the door and hurried back to his home before he allowed himself to break his promise.

\---

“What have you decided.” Erwin said as he entered the bakery the next day. The sickness had grown even stronger, pungent and over steeped like cheap tea. It was all Erwin could smell--even over the rows of fresh baked bread. Levi closed and locked the door behind him, letting a deep cough rattle through him before making his way to the counter to lean against. His shoulders slumped as his arms crossed over his chest. Erwin raised an eyebrow as he looked around. Everything was clean, pristine. As if nothing had changed, as if nothing was going to change.

He knew the answer.

“Where are the children?”

“Left them with a friend.” Levi ran a hand along the back of his neck, breathed out heavily and gasped in his next breath. “If I do this, I’m not a slave or anything, right?”

“What? No. Of course not.”

“I’m serious. I don’t intend to be your lapdog for all of eternity.”

“I swear, Levi.” Erwin moved forward, his hands out in a gesture of goodwill. “You will owe me nothing. It pains me to even offer it to you.”

“Don’t go acting like you have a heart to give along with those shits.”

Erwin said it before it could stop it. “I do.”

Levi stood up and let his hands fall to his side. Erwin heard the fluctuation in his heartbeat. The uneasiness in his breath. It quacked in him like a chill, and Levi dashed his hands up to his arms and heaved out a long series of coughs into his forearms.

“We need to do this quickly.”

“I know, Edgar.”

“Erwin.” Erwin stepped up to Levi, looked down at him as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “My name is Erwin.”

Levi huffed a sound of bemusement. “What else have you been lying about?”

“Just that.”

Levi shook his head, along with Erwin’s hand off his shoulder. “So, what do we do now, _Erwin_?”

They moved upstairs. They tried to work together to set aside furniture, but Levi was too weak to do much else than placing down a clean sheet to catch any stray blood that might fall. Levi looked at the whole idea as an inconvenience, stating that he had just cleaned the room the day before. Not at all acknowledging that he was about to lose his life in the same room he and the two children shared. That in just minutes he was about to live eternal pain through two holes punctured in his neck.

Levi sat down and leaned his back against the wall. Let himself bathe in the natural light that seeped into the room. His breath hitched, the sickness railing through him. It gurgled through his lungs as rasps out of his mouth. He was drowning in his own lungs, coughing viciously into his hand before gasping in breaths.

Erwin ran a hand through Levi’s hair before resting it on his jaw. He tilted his head up to meet his. “Open your eyes, Levi. You can’t close them.”

“Don’t…” Levi hunched over again, his head resting against Erwin’s shoulder, his voice muffled by his hands clamped over his mouth.

“You’re weak.”

“Stronger than you.”

Erwin smiled weakly. Even now, even when Levi could barely hold his head up, he was trying to win the upper hand. With a gentle touch, Erwin pulled a hand from Levi’s face, his thumb pressed against his frantic pulse. To think, he was here to release the fluttering bird he had worked so hard to keep caged. It brought a sadness to him to know that Levi would soon know that freedom was its own prison. That sometimes soaring too close to the sun melted everything, and that the ground would come rushing up to break him to pieces.

There was blood speckled in Levi’s palms. It was entrancing; made Erwin’s throat flash with a need so strong it scared him. He had waited so long to taste him, promised himself that he wouldn’t take this man because he was too _good_ for that. And now Levi was offering himself to Erwin, and he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stop when he started.

Erwin’s tongue lapped firm and long over Levi’s palm. His eyes drooped closed as he felt his heart float, wings unfurled as he tasted him--coppery and earthy, strong and heady like fermented tea. His grip on Levi’s wrist tightened slightly as he breathed out shakily against the skin. He tasted better than he could have ever expected. It was going to be so hard not to wring him out.

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” Levi’s fingers curled in on themselves, and he pushed his hand forward to run a knuckle along Erwin’s cheekbone.

Erwin didn’t dare look up, didn’t know if he could look at those eyes that he intended to snuff from this life. “Since the first time we met.”

Levi exposed both of his palms and wrapped them around Erwin’s face. He brought the taller man up to him, brought their faces so close that Erwin could smell the tantalizing aroma of blood at the corner of Levi’s lips. Levi’s eyes were unfocused and dark, but he was conscious enough to work through his final moments. He knew exactly what he wanted. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“You will know nothing but pain.” He still had a chance to back out. He could let him die on his own out here in the streets. He could bring his body to the fields outside of the city, bury him under a big willow. He would take care of the children he took in. He deserved more than this. He deserved to die human. “If I could, I would give myself so you wouldn’t have to do this.”

Levi brought their faces closer, so close that their lips met. Erwin winced, tasting more of Levi’s blood, his fingers tangling around tiny wrists as he leaned into the smaller man. Levi’s mouth pressed against his, needily moved with it as their lips smacked. He broke away briefly, his voice wavered and crackled with sickness and fatigue. It was a strange combination that brought it down several octaves. “I have to, so you better make it easier for me.”

Erwin nodded against Levi before taking his lips again. Levi’s body slid up the wall, straight and tall as one of Erwin’s knees fell between his thighs. Erwin’s skin was cold, and Levi’s lips were warm enough to make them feel like they had circulation again. The numbness worked out of them as he kissed Levi, the fever in their actions washing against him and making him feel human again.

He was almost thankful for the green-eyed monster. If he hadn’t been taken that night, he would have never been able to meet Levi. This beautiful man, dark haired and pale, eyes that mirrored stormy nights and intimidated like hurricanes. With his knife, he branded Erwin, marked him as his own, and he did again. With his tongue, Levi ran it along the slit that refused to heal, like the bite marks on his neck, like the empty ventricles of his heart, and it made Erwin moan deep. Levi roused parts of him that he thought were long since buried. His hand came up and tugged onto the hair, let his tongue drag up the skin, tasted sweat, felt the pulse beat thickly against it.

He wanted to melt into him. He pulled Levi’s body toward him, laid him down to the floor gently as he ran his tongue up against his neck and along his jaw until he matched lips again. He wrapped his arms around him, kissed the man deeply until Levi ran out of breath and coughed briefly into his shoulder. They kissed again, and again, Erwin wishing with each one that they could do this forever, and he supposed they would be able to if Levi decided to stay with him. But he couldn’t think about that now. Didn’t want to think of a world that may not have Levi in it.

Levi took Erwin’s bottom lip between his teeth. Half lidded gray eyes drilled up at him, challenged him for more. He pulled his head down, brought Erwin with him, bit down harder to where it would bleed if Erwin had any blood to expunge. He released him and pushed his tongue in Erwin’s mouth where they rolled against each other, tasting like tea and phlegm and death. Levi shuddered against Erwin’s body, and a moan railed out of him so loud that it echoed in the small room.

Levi snaked his hands between them, fumbled with his belt and unlatched his pants. His mouth still worked sloppily against Erwin’s, soft moans fluttering between them as he arched his back, let his chest go flush against Erwin’s. He hooked his thumbs between the linen and his hips and raised his hips to pull his pants down around his ass. Erwin broke away from him, his hand anchored at the base of Levi’s jaw. Leaning back, he took in the sight of Levi. Eyes pleading, mouth ajar and panting, temples sweating, chest heaving, cock hard and leaking. Erwin was convinced that nothing in this world had ever or would ever exist that was as awe-inspiring as the man within his grasp.

“I’ve never met anybody like you before.” Erwin said softly, as if it were a secret.

He rolled his neck against Erwin’s grip and grumbled. “I’m a man.”

“No… You’re better than a man. You’re a saint.”

Levi groaned, his hips wiggling in impatience. “Saints don’t do what you’ll be doing to me.”

Erwin grinned, dropping his hand and letting it trail along the length of Levi’s body, until it wrapped firmly around his cock. Levi hissed through his teeth, threw his head back and let his shoulder blades settle against the cool floorboards. With shallow strokes and flurrying kisses, Levi panted against Erwin’s neck, bucking his hips into Erwin’s hand as if it were the first time he had ever been touched. Like he never even touched himself.

“How long have you been waiting for this?” Erwin mused. He meant it rhetorically, but grinned as he received his answer.

“Since finding out you,” Levi moaned softly, a rasp from his lungs interrupting it midway. “Since… I knew you didn’t have a wife.”

“That early?”

Levi nodded quickly, kept nodding as he grabbed Erwin’s face between his hands and kissed him again. Moaned into his mouth until it turned into a cry of frustration when Erwin removed his hand from his cock. “No!” His hips squirmed under Erwin, let his fingers ball, grappling fists of hair with it. “You bastard!”

Erwin forced his hand up under Levi’s jaw and tilted it up so that Levi was looking out of the window. Carefully, he moved his body down Levi, pulling up the edge of Levi’s shirt to reveal the man’s lithe body underneath. His stomach flexed under his heaving breath, the muscles of his abdomen defining through the skin as he did so. He allowed Levi some relief, traced a finger from the base of his cock to the tip before bringing his mouth down and around it.

Levi gasped. His hold on Erwin’s head adjusting, grabbing the hair by the roots, moving him down and around him, guiding his motions. “Fuck.” He moaned, and it rattled through him, made every muscle in his body jitter, this heels of his feet pounding on the floor as his hips rutted up, driving his cock deeper into Erwin’s mouth.

Erwin placed his palms on Levi’s hips, pinning him to the floor. He removed himself from Levi, shook his fingers from out of his hair, and smiled hungrily up at him. It made Levi cry out with animalistic need, his hands reaching out and trying to pull him down for more. But Erwin didn’t let him, not for a moment anyway. As if delaying the inevitable would do just that, he looked at Levi, feeling his heat next to him, enjoying him while he was still encased in mortality, wishing desperately that he could keep that forever instead.

“Erwin.” Levi’s voice was heavy, filled with sickness, but quiet with affection. “I know what I’m doing. So please...” His hips swayed under Erwin’s weight, and he nodded solemnly in response.

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

Erwin dipped his head, ran his tongue from the base of Levi’s cock to the tip. Lapped up the jewel of precum at the slit, tasted the salt and the warmth, and shuddered along with Levi as he took him in his mouth again. He pressed his tongue against the underside as he bobbed his head, felt Levi attempt to buck into him as his fingers found his scalp again. He moaned deep onto Levi, felt the way it affected the smaller man. It shook him throughout, his knees shivering against Erwin’s shoulders as another moan raked through his lungs.

“Erwin…” Levi said, breathlessly. “Erwin!” He said, feverishly. “I’m gonna fuckin’...” Erwin’s eyes snapped up to look at him, his head pulling up to the tip, nearly teasing to release Levi completely between his lips before bringing himself down around him again with a deep moan resounding in his mouth. “Fuck!” Levi cursed again, his feet rising from the floor as he pulled his upper body up, driving Erwin to take the rest of his cock down his throat. He quivered, his face scrunching up tightly until it snapped like a rubber band, relaxing completely into his orgasm. The back of his head hit the floor as he released himself, long fits of ecstasy dragging out of Levi’s throat as his dick emptied into Erwin.

He was still panting, his cock still leaking and connecting to the corner of Erwin’s mouth with a long string of saliva when he demanded it. “Now.” Levi gasped.

Erwin swallowed down Levi, licked the last remaining bit of him off of his lips before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Excuse me?”

“Now. Take me now, while I’m still…” Levi sighed out, his eyes closing from having grown too heavy with release.

Erwin nodded, hesitantly, but he had no time to tarry. Making this easier for Levi was the most important thing he would ever have to do, and the post orgasmic haze could hopefully help to alleviate the feeling of dying… At least for this one time.

He leaned over, pulled Levi’s collar down before placing several delicate kisses on the tender skin. Levi groaned, his arms moving to wrap around Erwin’s shoulders after he tucked himself back into his pants. “Knock it off and just…”

Erwin sunk his teeth into Levi. His fangs met resistance with skin, felt it pop and flood his mouth with blood when they slid through. Levi whimpered, a type of whimper that caught behind his nose, made him sound like he was orgasming all over again. He felt Levi’s fingers dig into his shoulders, heard the heels of his boots kick against the floor. It was like his death. Terribly inelegant, painfully deliberate.

But he tasted so damn good.

Erwin sucked the blood into his mouth. Tasted yeast and lilacs and desperation. Tasted copper and silver and love. He drank him until his mind felt fuzzy, his hands grabbing at Levi’s collar and pulling him up, wrapping his arms tightly around the man as he continued to lap up the blood. Feeling Levi inside him like this, his blood working to pump his own veins now, was a level of ecstasy, a level of intimacy, he never would have thought possible. He found his moans of pleasure matching Levi’s moans of death, and it drove him to feed with more ferocity.

“Er… Win…” Levi muttered. His hands fell to the floor, his neck lulling back as Erwin continued to lick up his neck, removing the streams of blood that poured from the puncture wounds. Levi’s chest heaved with a sob, his unfocused eyes searching for Erwin’s. He was whimpering, his breathing shallow and labored. Tears streamed down his cheeks, flowed down his neck, mixed with the blood that Erwin drank up. “Erwin...”

The sensation clouded Erwin’s mind. He tasted so good.

“Stop…”

Like firewood deep in a fire pit, his veins were red hot with energy, even though the rest of his body was dead and ashen. The heat came from the inside, baked his skin with the smell of sweat and roses and grass.

“I…”

The blood came slower now. Erwin kept sucking. Drinking. Feeding. Killing.

Levi sighed out, his body going limp and quiet in Erwin’s arms. It took the dead weight to draw him back to reality. His eyes grew wide as he realized, saw just how ghostly white Levi would look exsanguinated of blood. He had gone too far. Wasn’t able to control himself like he had feared--the trust Levi had given him with his life... He allowed to get clouded with his animalistic tendencies.

“Levi…” He muttered. He pulled Levi into his lap, rocked his body against his own. Shaking his head, he tried to come down from his own adrenaline. Tried to focus on keeping Levi conscious. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t go to sleep.” The man groaned against his neck, but it was weak. Faint. Like he was tumbling down a well with no bottom. Forever falling into darkness. “I’m sorry.” He said, and it hurt him.

Levi closed his eyes, a final tear trailing down his cheek as his final breath seeped out through his mouth.

The room felt so much bigger. Three small beds, a trunk of toys, a desk with parchments and a quill. A life he had snuffed away when it was meant to continue on. It felt expansive, full of possibilities and memories that would never come. He did this. He ended this.

Two hundred years and he never wished for death more.

Erwin startled at the gasp. Levi had gasped so big that it deflated into a wail. Like a newborn, Levi flailed within Erwin’s embrace, his breath catching, his eyes wild and large. He knocked his fists against shoulders, arms, legs. Kept gasping in air as if he needed it. He was screaming, and Erwin held him so tight that the sounds almost creaked like the opening of an old door.

“Levi!” Erwin said his name against his neck. “Levi… You are safe.”

Levi cried again, pulled at Erwin’s clothes until the seams tore. “Fu…. Shit!” He wailed.

“You are safe.”

He kept panting for minutes. Maybe even an hour. Erwin held him until his breathing evened out, until the death rattles settled into something that pretended to be life. He kissed the top of Levi’s head, loosened his hold on him slightly, burying his nose into the crook of his neck, dried blood flaking from his skin as he nuzzled the spot. Levi relaxed back into him, rested his head against Erwin’s. He searched for Erwin’s hand, took it and laced their fingers together so tight that it seemed to call to something deeper. Something more meaningful than the simple concept of life or death.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, his breath warm against Levi’s cooling body.

Levi’s chest heaved, a laugh cresting at the end of his breath. “For what?”

“Everything.”

Levi turned his head up, kissed the bottom of Erwin’s jaw. “You were right.”

“About what?”

“Everything.”

Levi closed his eyes, breathed softly against Erwin’s neck, until the sunset and cast orange hues across the room. A room that was fit enough for four.

\---

It was different not being alone. Everything Erwin did, Levi did the same without question. There was a sense to how Erwin worked, to how he hunted and how he lived. When asked about it, he simply said that Erwin had been doing it for so long, he must have been doing something right.

Erwin folded a shirt and placed it on top of the growing pile in his luggage trunk. It had been thirteen years, and he had to leave. By now, he should have gained some weight and sagging skin. A ticket on the Trans Siberian Railway was packed away in his bag. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew he always wanted to become more well versed in Russian.

And he tried not to think about it. That even after watching the kids grow up to become their own people, and having a companion that seemed to understand him even better than himself… That he would be alone again. Everything in his house, all the rich facade that it was, meant nothing compared to that. He wondered what was even the point of packing it all up. It had memories. It had children filling the once empty bedrooms, a partner filling the vacant space of his bed. For once, in the epic tale that was his life, he had what he wanted--what he craved for more than quenching the thirst in his veins.

If he really wanted to start over, he’d have to remove Edgar _and_ Erwin.

“Get that shit look off your face.” Levi said softly.

Erwin hummed and looked up, saw Levi filling the doorframe to their room. He tried to smile, his fingers clutching around the linen in his hands, but it came out as a grimace. “I was unaware I had such a look.”

Levi swung his body into the room, scuffed the heels of his boots across the wood floor, until he gracefully turned around and sat on top of the stack of Erwin’s clothes. He looked up at his counterpart, face steady and unemotional, but he was there for something. Erwin raised an eyebrow at him. Levi averted his gaze and tapped his toes on the floor. “All this effort… And I really have to leave them?”

Erwin dropped the shirt in his hands next to Levi, his shoulders sinking. He had grown to love the children as his own, but Levi had a greater connection to them. He found them, raised them for years until Erwin came into the picture. They had both known this would have to happen eventually, but it didn’t make it easy. It just felt unreal.

“You know you have to.”

“Christ, I know that.” Levi leaned forward, his fingers tented together between his legs. He hung his head and shook it. “They’re capable of taking care of themselves, I just…”

“You did well raising them.” Erwin said softly. And he meant it. Furlan was studying at Oxford in order to become a doctor. Isabel, always so full of energy, fell in love with a smithy’s son and married him the year prior. She worked in the stables every day, training and caring for the horses. “If you hadn’t been there…”

“If _you_ hadn’t been there.” Levi looked up at him. His eyes were intense and sincere. “Even if I was gone you would have…”

“It was you, Levi.” Erwin kneeled down and placed one of his hands onto Levi’s knee. “And they’ll always love you.”

Levi bit his lip, focused on the doorframe as if he was going to jump up and flee at any moment. “I’m coming with you.”

Erwin paused, unsure of what he heard. Levi leaving him had always been a possibility. He vowed to stay with Levi until the kids grew up, but after that he was free to make his own decision. They were not prisoners to each other, though he supposed he himself had been chained to the black alley cat from the very beginning. “What?”

“Wherever you’re going, I’m going with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I owe you.” Levi looked at him, his eyes softer now.

Erwin shook his head. “This was never about debts. This curse is yours because you asked me to give it to you. You have done everything else on your own.” His fingers curled on Levi’s knee. He had captured this man, and he wanted to let him free. No. No he didn’t _want_ to. Never wanted to. But he _had_ to.

“Erwin…” Levi placed a hand on Erwin’s cheek, drew him closer to look into hollow blue eyes. He caressed a thumb across the slit in his cheek that never scabbed, never scared, never healed. “There’s nothing left for us but hell.”

“You’ve already sacrificed so much. Don’t continue to sacrifice for me.” Erwin placed a hand on top of Levi’s, turned his face into it. Never before had he been so close to anybody, and he wanted so much to stop talking, to accept this man and his promise. But in good conscience he couldn’t take him when he had already taken so much from him.

Levi’s eyebrows raised, and a slight smirk crossed his lips. “Yes, I have sacrificed myself, but I saved three.” He kissed him softly, the touch lingering with devotion, tasting of lilacs and bread even after all of these years.

Erwin’s eyes were wide, his lips craving the touch again--taking it and sighing defeatedly out of his nose. “I did not want to drag you into this hell.” He muttered against Levi’s lips, eyes half lidded and drunk on him.

Levi shook his head. “Hell turned out to be an alright place, then.”

Erwin’s mouth dropped, the corners of his lips curling. He turned his face into Levi’s hand and kissed the palm. Levi had sacrificed himself to give him purpose. They would face hell together--any kind of hell--would feel the flames lick across their cold skin, weather the embers under their feet, burn up from the inside out with dry veins of everlasting death. But they’d be together.

He would not waste that gift. Never in a thousand years would he.

Yes, Levi was a curious man indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was SO hard for me to do. why did i do this to myself? i'm not a huge fan of vampires, but i felt like it would work really well with eruri trust(tm). i just struggled hard making it not cliche, and i'm not sure i totally succeeded, but i hope it's still enjoyable anyway. :S
> 
> huge HUGE thanks to my beta readers: my roommate, sumikins, and erwinsalive. my roommate especially. he read this thing like 5 times and helped me really flesh all this out to something that didn't suck. thanks to valisi-clark as well for letting me bounce ideas off of her.
> 
> ... i really needed a lot of help with this. lol.
> 
> ANYWAY. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY. i fuckin' love you eruri nerds. <333


End file.
